


January Fourth

by redbluezero



Series: Fire Emblem: Three Houses Modern AU [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, YES beta we LIVE like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22122445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redbluezero/pseuds/redbluezero
Summary: It's Ingrid's eighteenth birthday and, being the plain jane she is, wants nothing more than to spend it with Glenn at home.
Relationships: Glenn Fraldarius/Ingrid Brandl Galatea
Series: Fire Emblem: Three Houses Modern AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1467811
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	January Fourth

**Author's Note:**

> Bet you never thought I'd post to my modern AU again! Anyway this fic is a few months old, from the summer. But since it's Ingrid's birthday, I had to post SOMETHING. Enjoy!

Ingrid wasn’t a fan of big parties or splurging on herself. Extravagance was her bane, and she had practically been  _ forced _ to agree to a celebration the weekend of her birthday. It took some convincing, and a lot of trying to get Mercedes to shut up, but she was at least allowed to spend the day of at Glenn’s place. It would be the most normal, domestic January fourth of her life, and that was the ideal. Who wouldn’t want to spend their eighteenth birthday with their long time boyfriend?

She arrived some time after five, wrapping her arms around herself to retain warmth. She was used to the cold, she lived up north after all, but sometimes down jackets weren’t enough. She quickly reached into her pocket for the keys to the Fraldarius household; Felix of all people had gifted them to her when she was around twelve. She opened the door with ease, surprising since her own door had practically been frozen shut, and walked in.

“Happy birthday, meine liebe!” Glenn exclaimed as she shuffled through the doorway. She was in the middle of shaking the snow off her boots when he tackled her with a hug. He wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled himself into her fluffy coat, and she couldn’t help but giggle a bit. She managed to wiggle an arm out to close the door tight, not wanting to freeze.

“Geez, Glenn, that’s probably the thirtieth time you’ve said that today!” Ingrid replied, lightly pushing him off of her so she could walk further in. It was a playful push, one he’d gotten used to. He retreated back to his spot on the couch, and she hung her jacket and took off her shoes quick enough to join him. They sat down together, melting into the beige couch cushions as they cuddled. Her head leaned on his shoulder, and his hand rested on her left arm. The cold outside was no match for the warmth they felt from each other.

“Well, what are we watching?” Glenn finally asked, using his free hand to reach for a remote on the wooden coffee table. He pressed down on the soft plastic button and the TV flashed on in an instant, commercials for diabetes medications booming. He frantically lowered the volume, almost jamming the button; neither of them enjoyed hearing the side effects of Januvia, especially not when it was that loud. He used that opportunity to open Netflix; the red screen was a blessing compared to the advertisement.

“Horse movies, of course. They’re my guilty pleasure. And since it’s my birthday, you can’t say  _ anything _ snarky about them!” Ingrid replied mischievously, a grin on her face. She kissed her boyfriend on the cheek, a preemptive apology for what he was about to endure.

“Haven’t you already memorized the script of Flicka?” Glenn asked, turning to look at her before he bit his tongue. “I mean, as you wish.” The two held eye contact for a moment, then burst out into laughter. He loaded up his instant queue after that; it was the place where he stored all of Ingrid’s favorite horse girl movies. Had he seen All Roads Lead Home a trillion times? Yes, and the plot never got any better. However, his sheer love for his girlfriend triumphed over his disdain for equestrian cinema. Soon, the familiar film started, and a smile grew on her face. It never got old for her; as for Glenn, looking at that wonderful grin of hers while the movies played never got old either.

About an hour later, the movie finished, and the couple moved onto the next phase of the birthday date. It was a little past six at that point, and they were growing hungry. Ingrid kicked her legs up and down as she sat at the dining table, waiting for “a special meal” to be prepared for her. Glenn was busy at the stove, using about three different utensils to cook. She wondered just what could need a ladle, spatula, and a pair of tongs, but it smelled appealing, so she didn’t complain. It was a nice, smoky scent; it was definitely meat, her favorite of the five main food groups. Her mouth watered in anticipation.

“Aaaand presto! Here you are, mi amore. Filet mignon that  _ isn’t  _ charred!” Glenn revealed his dish after a good half hour, setting it on the table all fanciful. He took a seat across from Ingrid, who was now fixated on her dinner. There was a glint in her eye; he smiled, happy to know he’d done a good job. At least, presentation wise. Flavor was another thing. He could feel himself melting under pressure as he watched her take the first bite. He waited on the edge of his seat, and gulped hard. Finally, an answer.

“Glenn… this is… the  _ best  _ thing I’ve ever eaten!” Ingrid exclaimed after having swallowed the piece of filet mignon. She quickly wolfed down the rest of it, and he was a bit unsure if she was really savoring it, but that didn’t matter. As he bit into the microwave burrito he’d heated himself up, he felt like the happiest man in the world. Like always, practice made perfect. He’d been training to make the perfect filet mignon for a year at that point, and though it came out of his pocket, it was  _ absolutely _ worth it.

“I love you, Glenn.” The words caught him off guard. His head quickly jerked up, away from his dinner. Sure, he’d heard that about a million times by then, but there was something different about her tone. Her eyes, usually comforting like a prairie, were as mysterious as a forest. Nevertheless, he nodded.

“I love you too,” Glenn replied, smiling. He still wasn’t aware of what was going on in his girlfriend’s mind, which was a rarity, and it scared him a bit. Had he not paid close enough attention to the movie? Had the filet mignon actually been bad? Oh no, what if she’d been lying when she said she didn’t want a cake and was waiting expectantly for one? His mind raced; she came first, always. That’s when he noticed that sometime between the “I love you” and his brain whirring, her gaze had shifted to her phone. She looked on patiently, as if she were waiting for something. Then, the home screen lit up.

“It’s 7:03!” she announced, a soft smile forming on her face. Glenn nodded; that was the exact time she had been born. She had  _ officially _ turned eighteen. He gave a small thumbs up, not knowing how to reply, but still wanting to congratulate. She was waiting for the exact minute, that he knew, but why? She’d never cared in years prior. Realizing how stumped her boyfriend was, Ingrid began to explain.

“We made it! We’re both adults and we’re still together. It’s crazy, really. I figured you’d go all out, sentiment-wise, so I wanted to thank you. I know it’s  _ my  _ birthday, but you know how I am. Anyway, I was trying to figure out the perfect gift when I realized that there’s no better thanks than to remind you of where we began,” she said, her smile growing more sincere. She then slowly reached her hand into her pocket, and took out a small metal object. She extended her arm out, opened her fist, and showed it to Glenn. In her palm was an enamel keychain of a horse, and it looked just like the one she’d given him all those years ago when she first confessed to him.

“You still have the original, but I figured that horse needs a partner now too. Since we’re… pretty much endgame,” Ingrid went on further, a bit embarrassed. Her hand quivered the same as before, waiting for her feelings to be accepted. Suddenly, the silence was broken by small sniffles. This time, though, Glenn was the one who bawled his eyes out. He wiped his face aggressively, but not so much as to cover his enormous smile. With an equally as shaky hand, he grabbed the keychain. He pulled it close to his chest and replied,

“Happy birthday, Ingrid. I’m so happy that you’re in my life.”

**Author's Note:**

> My modern AU is really supposed to be written like a goofy sitcom, so I am sorry if it reads like that, haha. One of my Glenn headcanons is the he calls Ingrid "my love" in every language he can. Also, Sylvain's the one who told Ingrid to say "we're endgame", a phrase that he learned from Bernadetta. OH and you won't believe how many "top ten horse movies" lists I scrolled through while writing this. I also Googled the time it takes to make a filet mignon, and I know it doesn't need three utensils to make but that's another sitcom-esque joke.  
> Anyway, happy birthday, Ingrid!


End file.
